


Yuletide Days

by hondagirll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-01
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2020-01-16 15:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hondagirll/pseuds/hondagirll
Summary: December 2015. As Christmas draws near the Weasley and Potter children experience laughter, joy, tears, pranks, love, heartbreak and, of course, plenty of family rivalry.





	1. December 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 25 Days of Christmas Challenge at the HP Fanfiction Challenges Forum. Originally posted [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4690890/1/Yuletide-Days)

**Tuesday December 1st**

**Potter household, upstairs bathroom**

**3:25pm**

 

It was the smell that got him in trouble. Ten year old James Potter was sure of it.

If not for the smell, James was sure his mother wouldn't have even noticed. Okay sure, maybe the fact that Lily was a different colour then she had been earlier that day might've tipped her off; because his mum definitely wasn't dumb. Or blind. But with his dad and brother gone to Devonshire to visit family friends for the day, James figured he had at least until supper before he was found out. Plenty of time to switch Lily back to her original colour with no one the wiser.

Except he forgot to factor in the smell.

"James Sirius Potter!"

A loud, booming voice filled the small bathroom and James winced. It was never a good thing to hear his mother before he physically saw her. Especially when she ' _Siriused'_ him. Schooling his features into utmost innocence, he turned towards him mother with a dimpled smile.

"Hi Mum. Wha-" His mother cut in before James could finish his sentence.

"James! Why is your sister red and green?"

James turned back to the bathtub, to where his six year old sister was sitting, happily playing with her dolls. A usual every day occurrence in the Potter house for Lily liked playing in the bathtub, especially surrounded by her hordes of toys. It was getting her to sit in the bathtub peacefully with the water _on_ that was the problem.

James grinned and re-faced his mother. "Because it's Christmas?" he replied mischievously.

Ginny Potter narrowed her eyes at her eldest son as she folded her arms across her chest, "Jamesssss…" came the warning.

"Okay, okay." James knew he was in trouble when his mother got that look in her eye. It was time to come clean and face the consequences. Otherwise he was going to wind up getting no dessert tonight. Again. And James knew for a fact that his dad was bringing back ice cream sandwiches from Fortescue's. "It was Lily's idea," he began hastily.

"Jamessssssss…" came the warning again.

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't her idea. But she doesn't mind," James turned back to his baby sister, not surprised to see her still playing happily, "Don't you Lil?"

Lily looked up at James and gave him a toothy white grin, the only thing not green and red on her body. James had to admit he did a fine job; with her red hair and green pinafore dress he only had to paint her arms, legs and face. Peering around James's legs, Lily raised a paint streaked doll in chubby green fist and waved to her mother. "Hi Mummy. Look," she pointed to herself and stated proudly, "I'm green."

James saw his mum stifle a laugh. With the paint still dripping down her limbs and her hair bound up in five different ponytails, Lily was quite the sight. And James knew he had to act quickly, while his mom was still finding it funny.

"Look Mum," James ran over to the sink and grabbed the container, "it says child friendly and non washable. Fred used it on Splinter last week. He said it all came off when he rinsed 'em." James passed the container to his mother, not noticing the stricken look that briefly crossed her face at the mention of the word 'non', "Though I wish he had warned me about the smell. It stinks."

"But James," his mother interjected, "you don't paint your baby sister."

"I know, I know. But I'm going to get it all off. Before supper. It's just that Fred told me I couldn't and I told him I could and Albus is still mad at me over the gnome incident so I couldn't use him and you always tell me not to paint walls or furniture and-" Here James paused for a breath. "I'm going to get it all off her before supper. Promise."

As his mother calmly handed him back the box, her upper lip twitched. "Well okay then. Before supper it is then."

James's eyes bulged out. His mother never let him off this easy. Something had to be up. He peered up at her suspiciously. "Wait. If I get it off before supper, can I still get dessert?"

His mother nodded. "Yep."

"Really?"

"If you can get it off."

"That'll be easy," said James to his mother's back as she left the room. Turning towards Lily he gave her his best smile, "Okay Lily Billy, you ready to get clean?"

Five minutes later Lily was still covered in paint.

Ten minutes later, despite much scrubbing, Lily was _still_ covered in paint

Fifteen minutes later, the paint still remained and Lily's lower lip started to tremble as she realized the enormity of the situation. "James," she tugged lightly on his t-shirt as her soft brown eyes welled up with tears, "I don't want to be red and green anymore. I want to be Lily 'gain."

Frustrated, James hollered to no one in particular, "The paint's NOT coming off!"

All he received in response was his mother's laughter as it floated up the staircase.


	2. December 2

**Wednesday December 2nd**

**Weasley Household, Rose's bedroom**

**5:47 am**

 

"Pssst….Rose."

Hugo leaned over his older sister or rather, the bundle of sheets that concealed his older sister. But Hugo was fairly certain Rose was under there, unless she had gotten eaten by the Hungry Man, the magical creature that ate people while they slept and then replaced their bodies with his. Of course, James had told Hugo about the Hungry Man and Hugo knew that James rarely told the truth. Hugo was six. Not mental. Besides, Hugo didn't think the Hungry Man had big, bushy red hair, like the strands of hair currently escaping the blankets. And if he did, well, Hugo felt sorry for him.

"Rosssseeeee," Hugo forgot about the Hungry Man and gave the blankets another poke, prodding them with his finger. "Rossssiieeeee…."

The blankets moved and Hugo was suddenly confronted with a sleepy brown eye as it peered out of a crack, regarding him suspiciously. Yep, definitely Rose. "Hugo?" Rose asked confusedly, the rest of her body still covered by sheets, "What are you doing 'ere?"

"Are you 'wake?"

Rose rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the blankets further up over her face. Her reply was muffled. "No."

But Hugo wasn't disheartened. He simply wiggled closer to his sister. "Rossseeeeee," he continued to plead as he shook the blankets, "I know you awake. I just saw you."

The blankets moved again. "Hugo, go back to bed."

"No. I have an important question to ask you."

Hugo could hear a heavy sign escape the bundle. A second later the blankets were thrown back and Rose's face was exposed. "What?" she asked her brother sharply.

Hugo leaned closer towards her, "What are you getting Dad for Christmas?"

"Hugo!" Rose groaned and looked at him, "You woke me up for that?"

Hugo nodded and Rose sighed again, "I don't know."

Her duties as a sister clearly done for the day, Rose pulled the blankets back up over her face and attempted to roll over. But Hugo stopped her. "Rose-"

"No."

"But Rose-"

"No."

"But Roseee-"

The blankets fell off and Rose sat up, her normally bushy hair currently crackling with electricity. "Hugo," she said calmly, though Hugo could tell by the glint in her eye she was anything but calm, "If you are not out of my room in five seconds I will take everyone of your Henry the Muggle figures and flush each of them down the toilet. Individually," she added.

Hugo left the room so fast his little legs were a blur. He left as if an irate pack Hungarian Horntails was fast on his tail and not simply an angry, sleep-deprived older sister. He would just have to talk to Rose later. Maybe.

Hugo continued to wander down the hallway, still wondering what to get his dad for Christmas. It had to be good. His dad was an important man; he was a 'Uror'. He deserved an important present. Hugo stopped outside his parents' bedroom. Cocking his head to the side, he heard his parents snoring. Or rather, his dad snoring. It was loud. Very loud.

A mischievous gleam came to Hugo's eyes. Maybe he could go in and ask his mum. She would know.

Opening their door up quietly, Hugo tiptoed to his mother's side of the bed. She slept on her side, with his dad's arm snuggled tightly around her waist. Squeezing his way up onto their bed he poked her gently, trying not to awaken his dad. "Pssst…Mum."

Hearing nothing, he poked her again. "Muuuummm."

His mother still didn't move. She was worse then Rose. Sighing, Hugo wiggled his way up the bed, not stopping until he reached her face. Cupping his hands over her ears, he bent down and yelled loudly, "Muu- _um_!"

As his mother awakened with a scream, sending both Hugo and his dad tumbling to the floor, Hugo reflected that maybe this wasn't the best time to ask her his question.


	3. December 3

**Thursday December 3rd**

**Weasley house, upstairs hallway**

**4:13pm**

 

Fred Weasley was mad. No. Fred Weasley was furious. No. Fred Weasley was _super_ mad.

The ten year old tried everything. He scowled. He glared. He frowned. He even copied the Weasley stance –legs apart with hands on hips- but to no avail. Nothing happened. Not an eyelash was fluttered, not a tremble occurred.

Fred kicked it. "Stupid door!" he muttered to himself. The door stared back at him, taunting him, mocking him. Fred could've sworn it even laughed at him –if doors did such a thing.

If only he were taller. If only he were bigger. Then he wouldn't be in this mess. Not for the first time did Fred wish he were older. How simple his life would be.

Muttering to himself again he stared at the door, intent on breaking through its protective charms. So focused was he on the door that Fred didn't even notice the small figure coming up the stairs until it spoke.

"What are you doing?"

Fred jumped so high that, for a second at least, he thought he was going to go right through the roof. Turning around, he saw his seven year old sister Roxanne standing there, a gingersnap biscuit in one hand and a curious expression on her heart shaped face.

"Nothing Roxanne," Fred ignored her and turned around. He then proceeded to have another stare down competition with the door. The door won. "Go away."

Unfortunately, as is often the case with younger siblings, she didn't listen. "Why are you staring at the door? Are you trying to get into Daddy's office?"

"'Course not."

Fred could hear his sister take another bite of the biscuit. She waited until she swallowed before she spoke, "Are you trying to get the Christmas presents?"

Fred scowled. "No."

"Because Daddy locked that door. And he put three," here Roxanne held up her fingers, _"three_ charms on it."

"I know Roxie."

"So you can't get in it. At all."

Fred rolled his eyes. Sometimes little sisters could be _awfully_ annoying. "I know that. I heard Dad." But Fred still persisted in trying the knob, hoping it would open. It didn't. He stepped back, taking a good look at the door. It was a pretty regular door, although there was a little window on top. Big enough for someone to crawl into. Of course, he had to reach it first.

"And if you were thinking of trying to crawl through the window, you can't," continued Roxanne in that annoying, condescending manner that only siblings and cousins have, "You have to be taller. Or find two more of you."

"I know th-" Fred's voice suddenly stopped, as his sister's words renovated through his head. _Two more of you_. Turning around, he gave a little sister a huge smile, his annoyance with her quickly evaporating. "Brilliant idea Roxie!"

He walked past her and swiftly snatched the half eaten biscuit out of her hand. Ignoring her cries of protest ( _"Fred! That's mine!"_ ), he quickly bounded down the stairs. "Hey Mum!" he shouted, "Can James and Louis come over today?"


	4. December 4

**Friday December 4th**

**Weasley house, kitchen**

**11: 13 am**

 

Audrey Weasley was making gingerbread men. The flour rubbed into the smooth, wooden crevices of the countertop as she rolled the ball of dough flat. Lifting the dough, she rotated it ninety degrees midair and set it back down again, never once letting it lose its flexibility. Audrey felt two small eyes watch her and she smiled to herself. With Percy at work and their daughter Molly in her second year at Hogwarts, there was only one other person in the house with her.

"Muuum?" Chubby fingers gripped the countertop and held on tight, as the little watcher struggled to see over its edge. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making gingerbread men Lucy-girl."

Audrey watched as her daughter's bright blue eyes widened in surprise and her little mouth formed a 'O'. Lucy teetered on her heels as she stretched herself up, trying desperately to see what her mother was doing. Audrey continued to roll, not satisfied until the dough was the correct width all around. She felt her daughter still watching her and smiled, "Would you like to help dear?"

Lucy bobbed her little head anxiously. "Yes, please," she remembered to add.

Audrey wiped her flour covered hands on her apron before rising. She walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed one of its tall chairs, bringing it over to the counter. Setting it down, she watched in amusement as her four year old daughter eagerly climbed up. "Wait Lucy, did you forget to do something?"

Lucy frowned in concentration, crinkling her nose as she thought. "Um…." She looked up at her mother for help.

"You have to wash your hands first," reminded Audrey patiently.

"Oh!" Lucy scrambled off the chair and dashed over to the sink. Turning the water on full blast she started to wash her hands eagerly, not noticing the droplets of water that sprayed everywhere onto both the sink and the adjoining countertop. "Don't start without me."

"I won't."

Lucy finished and swiftly dried her hands off on the nearby towel rack. She turned around and gave her mother a dimpled smile. "I'm clean."

Audrey laughed and nodded her head in agreement. "That you are."

She waited patiently until her daughter had climbed back up in the chair. Pushing her forward, she trapped her neatly in between the chair and the counter top, only stopping when she was satisfied that Lucy wouldn't fall. Audrey walked to the other end of the counter and settled herself back in her original position, right across from her little girl. Looking up, she caught her daughter's eye and winked. "Are you ready?"

Lucy nodded and reached for a small bit of flour that had been left unattended. Wiping her little fingers in it, she didn't stop until her hands were completely covered in the white substance, just like her mother's. "Now I'm ready!" she cheered, showing off her hands eagerly.

Audrey took one of the metal gingerbread cutouts and pressed it down gently on the dough. "Now Lucy," she commanded, her tone soft, "I want you to push the gingerbread man down on the dough, just like this, as hard as you can. Do you think you can do that?"

Lucy shook her head up and down, "Uh huh."

Audrey took the cutout and set it on the dough in front of her daughter watching as Lucy pressed down hard, completely cutting through the dough. "Good job," said Audrey. She took the cutout away, and started to peel off the dough around the outline, slowly transforming it into a gingerbread man. "Now, I want you to watch me for a bit. And then you can do another one. Okay?"

Lucy nodded silently and continued watching her mother. Audrey had cut out four more men before Lucy spoke again. "Mummy?"

"Yes dear?"

"What are all the ginger men for?" she asked, a little bit of hope sounding in her voice.

"For the children at St. Mungo's, love."

"Oh." Lucy stuck out her bottom lip and frowned in a way that put a tiny crinkle of the top of her nose. "Are there _lots_ of children at St Mungo's?"

Audrey stopped her cutting and looked up at her daughter. Lucy must have rubbed her face because she had streak of flour alongside her nose and flour clung to her dainty eyelashes. "Yes sweetie. There are lots of children."

Lucy looked crestfallen. "Oh." She paused for a minute and then said brightly, "But they aren't _hungry_ children, are they?"

"No. But I think they would like some gingerbread men, don't you?"

Lucy shrugged her small shoulders softly, "I suppose."

Audrey grinned broadly, knowing exactly what was going through her young daughter's mind. She bent over the counter, closer to Lucy and dropped her voice to a whisper, "Do you remember the last time I made biscuits for the children at St. Mungo's?"

Lucy shook her head sadly, "No."

"I saved some extra _special_ ones, just for me and you."

Lucy gasped in wonder, "Really?"

Audrey nodded, "Really."

Lucy beamed, clapping her floured covered hands together, "Yay"

Audrey smiled, "Yay indeed". She got back to rolling out another batch of dough, until a little voice suddenly stopped her. "Mum?"

"Yes Lucy-girl?"

"What about Daddy? Can we save some for him too?"

Audrey looked at her freckled faced, flour covered daughter fondly and gave her a wink, "I think that can be arranged."

Lucy nodded her head vigorously, "That's good, because Daddy likes gingerbread men. And you know what else Mummy?"

"What?"

"Gingerbread men are my favorite too!"

Audrey laughed; the sound echoing loudly in their small kitchen. She reached across the tabletop and gave her daughter a small hug. "You don't say?"


	5. December 5

**Saturday December 5th**

**Hogwarts, Great Hall**

**9:06 am**

 

There are many things the students at Hogwarts know for certain, without anyone having to point them out. Everyone, regardless of whether or not they actually stayed for the holidays, knows that Hagrid always gets tipsy on the eggnog at the Christmas Feast. Everyone knows that if you happened to get caught by Peeves in the corridors during lessons, you were guaranteed to be at least five minutes late to your next lesson. Everyone knows that the staircase by the Entrance Hall doors squeak when you tried to sneak in after hours and everyone also knows that Teddy Lupin is an orphan.

Of course, what people don't know is that Teddy still has a family. For just because you have no parents doesn't necessarily mean you have no family.

And as Teddy sat in the Great Hall one cold December morning, he was reminded of that fact.

"Oi Teddy!"

Teddy looked up in the direction of the voice. His fellow Gryffindor teammates waved at him from across the room. "We're going to the Pitch to do a little warm up before practice," they shouted, "You in?"

Teddy nodded his head and held up his half eaten toast, indicating that he wasn't done eating just yet. "I'll be there in a minute," he shouted back. As his teammates headed out without him, he turned back to his morning post curious as to what the long, cylinder package that his owl, Bubbles, had just dropped in front of him contained. Opening it up slowly, he wasn't surprised when two slips of parchment fell out, each covered in childish handwriting.

Picking up the first one Teddy started reading. _Teddy,_ it began. Teddy grinned as he recognized his god sister's handwriting, all messy with large parts of the parchment blotted out from mistakes. He continued reading, _I miss you lots. I lost a toth. It was big. I drew a picure of it for you. James said the picure was stupid so I hit him. Are you coming home son?_ The letter was signed, _Lily Luna Potter_

Teddy laughed silently to himself, not surprised that Lily had written out her full name. She was very proud of herself for being able to write out her whole name. If Teddy remembered correctly, it had taken Ginny the better part of a month to teach Lily how to write that. Popping the rest of the toast in his mouth, he picked up the other parchment that had fallen out along with Lily's. _Teddy,_ it began. _This is Hugo. Not Lily. Lily is a girl._ Teddy snorted and continued reading, _I have a qestin. I dont no what my Dad want for Christmas. Do you no? Can you tell me?_ The letter was signed in such a scribble that Teddy couldn't make out the name, even though he knew there was at least an H and W in there.

Leaning back in his seat, Teddy smiled. As far as guys go, he wasn't a sentimental bloke. Not at all. He rarely cried or showed any sort of emotion, something he was often told angrily whenever a girl chucked him. According to them, he _had_ no emotions. Teddy sometimes agreed with them. He just wasn't the sort of boy that was going to cry or wax some foolish form of poetry just because a girl had decided she didn't like him anymore. And, along the same lines of reasoning, he rarely kept anything that was old or broken purely for sentimental reasons. If it was broken it was broken. Why keep it? And if he happened to throw out a flower or another one of those pointless little gift girlfriends seemed so happy to give guys, he didn't understand why they then proceeded to always get so upset with him? It wasn't like it was important or anything. Teddy had long ago decided that sentiments were for girls. No rational, sane man acted like _that._ And at age seventeen and three quarters, Teddy was nothing if not a man.

But as he rose from the table, Teddy folded up the parchments and slipped them carefully in his robe pocket. And if he continued to carry them around with him for the rest of the day it wasn't because he was a sissy or anything of that sort. He just didn't want to forget to write Lily and Hugo back.

Nothing more.


	6. December 6

**Sunday December 6**

**Potter house, Lily's bedroom**

**7:31 pm**

 

Lily clutched the edge of her mother's shirt tearfully. "Mummy, please, don't make me go to bed. Pleeeease."

Her brown eyes pleaded with her mother, their orbs white and round in her pale face. "Now Lily," Ginny Potter began sternly, having been through this before with each of her children, "you have to go to bed."

Lily shook her head passionately, her red hair flying everywhere as her mother attempted to place the covers up over her small frame. "I can't. Rudolph will come get me."

Lily saw her mother frown. "Now, who is Rudolph?" she asked patiently, running her fingers calmly through Lily's wild hair.

"He's an evil reindeer who sneaks into people houses at Christmastime and gobbles little children up. And you know what else Mummy?"

"What?"

Lily's eyes grew even wider. Her voice fell to a whisper as she answered her mother's question. "He only eats the youngest kids in the house. The littlest ones," Lily's grip on her mother's shirt, if possible, grew even tighter. "Mum that's me!"

Her mother sighed softly, "Has James been telling you stories again?" At Lily's nod, she continued. "Well, don't listen to him," Ginny said as she managed to get her daughter to unclench her grip and set her softly back in the bed. Drawing the covers up over her body tightly, she kissed Lily's forehead. "He was lying. There are no reindeer or monsters in this house. I promise."

Lily stared at her mother, not sure whether or not to believe her. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive," her mother replied. Standing up, she kissed Lily one more time, "Don't worry sweetie. You'll go to bed sooner then you think." Frowning, Lily watched as her mother left, turning the lights off and plunging the room into total darkness. Lily lied there, trying to sleep. She knew that her mother was telling her the truth, but every time she closed her eyes all she saw was an evil reindeer, haunting her, watching her.

As the night drew on, Lily continued to lie there, wide awake. The house had started to make its usual noises and odd sounds and with every shadow that past over her head, Lily's eyes continued to widen. She could just _feel_ that nasty Rudolph watching her. As the house continued to creak, Lily sank further and further into her bed, holding her stuffed hippogriff, Dimples, tight. But when a loud _bang!_ sounded outside her bedroom window, Lily had had enough.

Climbing out of bed she dashed across the room, fearful with every step she took that the reindeer was going to jump out and get her. Reaching her bedroom door she paused, thankful that she hadn't been made reindeer food yet. Poking her small head into the hallway, she looked around. Seeing no one, she breathed a slight sigh of relief and dashed across the hallway quickly, careful to go quietly and not wake up her parents.

Her brother's room was as dark as hers had been and Lily ventured in nervously. "Al," she whispered softly. "Al. You awake?"

Her older brother didn't stir and Lily moved closer to his bed. "Albus," she hissed, louder. This time, the dark haired boy groaned and moved in his sleep, drawing his body closer to the wall and opening up a nice Lily sized space right next to him. Clenching her hippogriff, Lily clambered up on his bed. As she cuddled next to him, she could feel the heat from his body sooth her own tired limbs.

Her brother moved again and this time his knee knocked into her leg. Sleepy emerald eyes opened in surprise as he looked at Lily. "Lily?" he asked blearily, "What are you doing here?"

Lily scotched closer to her brother. "Rudolph," she answered, tears welling up in her eyes. "He was going to eat me."

Albus groaned and flung a hand over his eye wearily. "Lily, James was just foolin' you. There is no such thing as Rudolph."

"Yes, there is," replied Lily stubbornly. "And he's going to eat me."

"Fine," muttered Albus tiredly, knowing Lily's persistence and natural born stubbornness. Lifting up the covers, he beckoned his sister underneath. "You can sleep here tonight, but that's it. Tomorrow night you're on your own."

Lily scampered under the covers, thankful that at least one of her brother was nice. "Thank you Al," she said gratefully, sliding in next to him.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it."

Lily nodded, feeling safe next to her big, strong, _eight_ year old brother. There was no way that a nasty, child eating reindeer was going to eat her now, not with Albus here to protect her. A few minutes later Lily drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that she had a defender by her side.


	7. December 7

**Monday December 7th**

**Weasley house, outside of Fred's Room**

**2:07 pm**

 

"Operation Christmas."

"No, that's too boring. How about Operation Presents?"

"Wait, how is that any different then Operation Christmas?"

"It sounds better. Plus, it's my idea."

"Well, it's _my_ house you git, and who gave you permission anyways…"

Roxanne Weasley put a hand over her mouth and giggled. She could hear her brother and her cousins in his room, obviously planning something. Tiptoeing closer to Fred's partially opened door (At age seven Roxie didn't know much about scheming, or planning. But she did know that her cousins and brother were stupid for not shutting the door all the way), she peeked through its small opening. She could just make out Louis sitting on Fred's bed with James beside him. Fred was out of her sight range but Roxie assumed he was near the dresser, judging by the direction his voice was coming from. Holding her breath, she didn't want to make _any_ noise; she continued to listen in to their conversation.

"When are we doing this? I don't want to get caught," came Louis's –the ever dependable cousin- voice.

"Caught?" Roxie could hear James scoff and she smiled. He was so predictable. "We don't get caught. We're Weasley's."

"Yeah, but Dad's pretty smart," Roxanne secretly nodded in agreement with her brother. "So we got to be careful. Getting those Christmas presents is not going to be easy."

"But it'll sure be fun!" All three of the ten-year-olds laughed and Roxie took an even closer step to the door, anxious to hear the rest of the conversation.

A small sigh sounded in the air right above Roxanne's head, "What are the boys up to now?"

The unexpected voice took Roxanne completely by surprise and she jumped, nearly wetting her pants. Turning around, she saw her dad standing right behind her. Oh no. For a moment, Roxanne thought she was going to get in trouble for eavesdropping, but her father simply smiled and pressed a finger to his lips, cautioning her to be quiet as he listened at the door. After a few moments, a small grin flittered around his mouth. Dropping to his knees, George Weasley angled his head towards his only daughter, "So they're trying to get to their Christmas presents huh?"

Roxanne nodded, too shocked to say anything else. She had a feeling her dad finding out was the last thing the boys expected. Glancing towards the door, she was relieved to see that the boys were too engrossed in their planning to pay any attention to the two enemies that were currently standing outside the door.

Her dad's hot breath tickled her ear as he continued to whisper, "Did your brother include you in his plans?"

"No," said Roxie softly, still upset by that fact. She knew her brother was planning to get the presents, she did catch him outside their dad's office a few days ago after all, and she thought that she might've been included in their plans. But she was wrong.

"Well," replied George, "I have may have a plan or two up my sleeve regarding Christmas presents as well. The only thing is, I'm in need of some assistance. Maybe from a certain little girl with big brown eyes? Do you know anyone that fits that description?"

"Yes, me!" Roxanne jumped up excitedly, forgetting for a minute that she was still lurking outside her brother's bedroom door. George grabbed his daughter's arm to quiet her. "Sssh," he said, nodding towards the partially open door, "We can't talk here. Let's go to the kitchen. I think your mum just pulled out a batch of fresh baked biscuits. We can talk in there."

Roxie nodded and started to rise. Before she and her dad left the hallway she glanced one last time at her brother's bedroom. Listening to the excited voices from within, a mischievous gleam entered her eyes. The boys were going to have no idea what hit them.


	8. December 8

**Tuesday December 8**

**Weasley house, upstairs landing**

**3:57 am**

 

Her feet were cold. Really, _really_ cold. As eight-year-old Rose Weasley shuffled down the hallway quietly, her bare feet lightly touching the cold, hardwood floor, her toes became more and more frozen. As she reached the top of the staircase, Rose paused and rubbed her cold feet, all the while looking down the hall to her parent's room. All was quiet. Perfect.

Rose crept down the staircase as carefully as possible, taking great pains to avoid the fifth stair which creaked loudly. Reaching the bottom of the staircase she congratulated herself for getting downstairs, undetected. Grinning, Rose turned in the direction of the kitchen. It was just past the parlor, barely out of her line of sight. Rose started down that way, her mouth already watering at the thought of what awaited her in the kitchen, her mum's apple pie. Delicious, fluffy and with just the right amount of cinnamon, it was enough to make any person mental or, in Rose's case, get up extra early.

Rose bundled her hands further into her robes as she continued on her walk. She was well aware that she wasn't supposed to be up at this time of the night, much less be on her way to eat a pie that her mum made specifically for the annual holiday party at the Ministry but Rose couldn't help herself. As soon as Rose heard her mother mention the pie during the previous night's supper, the images of dancing apples and melt-in-your-mouth pie crust got into her head and refused to go away. Hence, her midnight wanderings. As she opened the swinging doors to the kitchen, Rose was so engrossed in her apple dancing thoughts that she didn't notice at first the figure already sitting at the kitchen table.

"Dad?"

Ron Weasley looked up in surprise, a tiny bit of apple clinging to his lower lip. "Rosie?" he asked as he attempted to shove a half eaten pie behind his back. "What are you doing up?"

Rose stepped further into the kitchen and raised one of her eyebrows –a trait she inherited from her mother- mildly. "What am I doing up? What are _you_ doing up?"

Ron grinned, flustered. Lightly tugging at his pajama top he avoided his daughter's eyes as he answered, "Oh nothing, just nicked down here to get a cup of water, that's all."

Rose took in the opened can of whipped cream and the apple pie sitting on the countertop with a large, Dad-sized piece missing. Shaking her head, she gave her dad another look. "So what's the pie doing out then?"

"Um, to chase down the water of course," answered Ron, as smoothly as possible. Stretching back in his seat, he suddenly re-examined his daughter intently. "Wait. What are _you_ doing down here at this hour of the night?"

Rose tried to think fast. "Um, to get a cup of water?" she said with childish innocence.

Ron laughed and brought his piece of pie out from behind his back. Setting it down on the tabletop, he leaned towards the counter and grabbed the apple pie. He set it down in front of him and looked up at his daughter, a mischievous twinkle beaming in his eyes. "Water huh? Now tell me, would that be with or without cream?"

"With!" Rose couldn't stop the large smile from breaking out over her face as she scampered across the kitchen, her cold feet long forgotten. Grabbing an extra plate from the cupboard, she sat down next to her father and held it out for him.

"Now Rosie," Ron began sternly as he started to pile the cream onto Rose's piece of pie, "remember, we were never here. If your mother finds out then we, or at least I, am dead."

Rose nodded in agreement as her father handed her plate. Taking a small bite, she closed her eyes blissfully as the delicious pie entered her mouth. "Got it Dad, we were never here."

And four hours later when Hermione Granger-Weasley entered her kitchen to discover over _half_ her pie missing, no one could give her a straight reason as to what happened to it. Shaking her head fondly, for Hermione could smell apple on her husband's breath and her daughter had a small, reddish smudge near the top of her dressing gown that hadn't been there the night before, she walked over to the cupboards and pulled out another apple pie. Laughing at the expression at their faces, she started to cut the pie into quarters, "What, did you think I didn't have a back up? With you two?"

Ron smiled foolishly as his daughter tugged at his shirt. Bending down, he met his wife's eyes and smiled at her as Rose whispered into his ear, "Da-aad. We could've eaten the whole thing!"

The whole kitchen rung with Ron's groan.


	9. December 9

**Wednesday December 9**

**Hogwarts, Gryffindor Common Room**

**5:17 pm**

 

Dominique Weasley is not a big fan of Christmas. She was when she was a kid, she recalls fondly. But now, at the wise old age of thirteen she feels she is too old and too _mature_ to believe in the wonder of the holidays. It's for babies, not for sophisticated teenagers like herself.

Or so she thought.

"Hey Dom!"

Dominique looks up from her Charms essay to see her two friends, Catherine and Meggan, waving at her from across the Common Room. "We're going downstairs to eat," they shouted over the noise, "You coming?"

Nodding, Dominique threw her books and parchments into her book bag. Throwing the strap over her shoulder she quickly got up from her table by the fire and headed over to her friends. Joining them, the three girls quickly started off towards the portrait hole; Catherine and Meggan in front with Dominique bringing up the rear. Just as Catherine and Meggan stepped through the portrait hole Dominique suddenly realized that she had forgotten something. "Oh shoot, my Potion notes!" she wailed as she turned away from the portrait hole, only to run smack dab into someone.

Someone hard, someone warm and someone most definitely _not_ female.

"Dominique?"

Dom looked up to see big brown eyes regarding her friendly. Eyes that could only belong to one boy, Jacob Wood, her fellow Gryffindor classmate. Dominique's stomach flip flopped and her mouth went dry as she stepped away from him, suddenly nervous.

"Jake? Oh, I'm so sorry," Dominique started to stammered, "I didn't see you there."

Jacob smiled slowly, the grin lifting the dimples of mouth into a teasing pattern. At age thirteen, Jake Woods was not considered by many girls to be exceptionally good looking. His nose was too big for his face, his body too tall and lanky, his hands and feet were still two sizes bigger then the rest of him and his dark brown hair always stuck up in the oddest manner. He definitely wouldn't be on the cover of a Wizarding magazine anytime soon. But there was something about him, something that Dominique had yet to place, that always made her heart race and her palms go dry whenever he got too close.

Like now.

"It's okay," replied Jacob as he smiled down at Dominique shyly, "I was just coming over to give you this." He held out a stack of papers in his hand and Dominique was shocked to realize that they were her Potions notes.

"Um, thank you," she replied nervously as she took the papers from his hands, blushing to think that he noticed she left her papers and came all the way across the room just to give them to her.

"You're welcome," said Jacob as he continued to stare down at her, "I just thought they might something important."

They weren't but Dominique didn't have the heart to tell him that. Staring at him, she suddenly realized that a good majority of the people still milling around in the Common Room had stopped and were now watching the pair of them anxiously, many of them pointing above their heads. Looking up, Dominique followed their fingers to observe a batch of mistletoe dangling precociously from the ceiling, right above her and Jacob's heads. "Oh…" she murmured softly as Jacob's gaze followed her own.

The whole room exploded into a bunch of catcalls once Dominique and Jacob noticed the mistletoe. "You get her Jake!" "Atta boy!" came a few shouts from the staircase followed by a "Snog her 'til she's senseless" cry from a burly Fifth Year. Dominique could hear Catherine and Meggan giggling quietly behind her and she blushed in embarrassment.

Jacob glanced down just in time to catch Dominique's eye and the two of them look away quickly, embarrassed. "Its okay" muttered Dominique softly as she unknowingly clenched her Potion notes tighter in her fist. "You don't have to do it."

"No!" said Jacob sharply and Dominique looked up at him, surprised. "I mean," Jacob's face flushed a bright red as he tugged at his collar bashfully, "its tradition right?"

Dominique's eyes opened wide and she nodded slowly, unable to comprehend what he just said. A second later his meaning became clearer as he stepped closer to her, causing the whole Common Room to explode into even more chaos. Dominique closed her eyes, unsure of what exactly she was supposed to do. She could feel Jacob getting closer and a moment later, his lips touched hers. The kiss was brief and soft, lasting a second at the most, but Dominique could feel something light and tingly run the course of her veins, through her arms and down to her feet. She could feel the full effect in her chest. And as she opened her eyes a moment later she saw Jacob staring at her, his face now completely red.

"Um…Merry Christmas Dom," he said quietly as he stepped away, half pleased and half embarrassed with himself. Turning around, he quickly walked back towards his group of friends, ignoring the many slaps of congratulations on his back. Dominique watched him go, bringing a finger up to her lips in wonder as a huge smile spread unchecked across her face.

"Merry Christmas Jake," she answered softly, deciding in that moment that Christmas was the most wondrous, fantastic holiday ever invented. And it definitely wasn't just for babies.


	10. December 10

**Thursday December 10th**

**Potter house, downstairs study**

**12:32 pm**

 

"Dad?"

Eight-year-old Albus Severus Potter stood in the doorway of his father's study and looked in. His father looked up from his work and visibly flinched at the sight of his youngest son.

"Al'?" Harry Potter got up from his desk and made his way quickly over to Albus. Stopping in front of him he bent down and looked at his son before asking calmly, "What happened to you?"

Albus looked down at himself. He was completely covered in a green, sticky, gooey substance; from the top of his dark head to the bottom of his feet. Al could feel it dripping off him. Everywhere. He ignored his father's question and instead brushed a strand of gooey covered hair out of his eyes before saying angrily, "I know what I want for Christmas."

If his father thought that was an odd statement for him to make covered in goo, he didn't say anything. Nor did his face change. Instead, Albus watched as his father simply waved his wand and muttered " _Scourgify",_ cleaning Albus off completely and allowing him to finish his thought.

"I want one less brother," ended Albus as the goo disappeared.

Harry sighed and looked at his middle child wearily. "Did James do this to you?" he asked, taking in the murderous expression on Albus' face.

Albus nodded and was ashamed to feel tears come to his eyes. Embarrassed, he turned away and wiped them hastily, hoping his father wouldn't noticed. Unfortunately, his father did and Albus felt a strong hand cup his chin and turn his face softly towards him, as emerald eyes met emerald eyes.

"Albus," began Harry gently, "What's wrong son?"

Albus felt the tears come even more and this time, he didn't even attempt to stop them. "I hate being a middle child," exclaimed Albus tearfully as he stared at his feet, too afraid to watch his father's face. "I'm always getting picked on by James or I'm being forced to play baby games with Lily. It's not fair!"

A long moment passed. In the ensuring silence Albus' stomach tightened and he sneaked a peek at his father, fearful of what he might find. He was surprised to his father regarding him thoughtfully, his face impassive. "You're right," said Harry, "It's not fair."

Albus looked at his father in shock, surprised that his dad actually agreed with him. His relief was short lived however, as Harry placed a hand on his young son's shoulders and led him to a nearby chair before saying cautiously, "But life's not fair Al'."

Albus almost groaned out loud, having heard that saying before. Going up in a household with James and Lily for siblings, his parents were often shouting, er… _saying_ that phrase a lot. His shoulders slumped and he continued to sit in the chair, dreading what his dad was going to say next. He was taken by surprise though, when his father pulled up the chair next to him, sat down and simply asked, "So what happened today?"

Albus started to watch his feet as he answered. "I was in my room playing with my broom set," said Albus, referring to the tiny replica set of different brooms he was given for his birthday earlier in the year, "And James came in and asked me if I wanted to go outside and play Quidditch. I told him no. I didn't want to play Dad!" he exclaimed, glancing up at his father.

Harry nodded and waited for his son to continue.

"But James got mad. Really, really mad. He started calling me names and said I was a baby for playing with dolls. Even though brooms aren't dolls and he has a set himself. And when I told him that he glared and kicked my brooms. And then…" Albus voice trailed off and he avoided his father's gaze, too ashamed to tell him what happened next.

Albus could feel his father sigh long before he actually did. "Albus," his dad said warningly. "Look at me."

Albus did and was not surprised to find his father looking at him with that you-better-tell-me-or else expression on his face. Groaning, because he knew better then to disobey his father, Albus finished as quickly as he could, "And then I told James he was a big poopy head and his face got big and red and he shouted and I shouted and then next thing I knew James was covered in spots and I was covered in goo."

Albus took a deep breath and waited for his father to yell. Instead he heard nothing. Peeking up at him, he was pleasantly surprised to notice the slightest glimpse of a smile appear on his father's face. "James is covered in spots?" asked Harry, more to himself then anyone else.

Albus nodded and said cautiously, "Big _warty_ spots."

Albus watched his father sigh and drag a hand over his face, as if he was tired. Lifting his hand, Harry regarded his son thoughtfully. "Albus, do you know what day it is?"

Albus was surprised. "Um…Thursday?"

"Yes, it's Thursday. But today is also Freddie's birthday. And do you remember how old your cousin turns today?"

Emerald eyes opened in shock as Albus started to realize what his father was trying to say. "Eleven?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Harry nodded. "Yes. And he already floo-ed over here and talked to James, crowing about getting his Hogwarts letter."

Comprehension dawned across Albus' face. "Oh, and James is miffed because Fred got his Hogwarts letter already and he has to wait until May to get his?" he asked.

"Yes," said Harry in agreement. "And do you think maybe that's why he was so mean to you today? Because he feels left out?"

"I supposed," said Albus, grudgingly. "But Dad," he looked at his father questionably; "He shouldn't have ruined my toys and yelled at me."

"No. You are absolutely, he shouldn't have. And I will talk to him about that later. But what I want you to understand Al," here Harry placed a hand on Albus shoulder as he continued talking, "Is that there are two sides to every story. And sometimes you need to listen to them before you jump to the wrong conclusions. Okay?"

Albus nodded, his anger at his brother slightly abated. "Okay," he muttered softly. "And Dad?" he added.

Albus looked at his father nervously before continuing, "I'm sorry I covered James in spots. I didn't mean to. I just got so angry."

Harry raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "I don't think you should be apologizing to me son. I think you should say that to James. Speaking of your brother, where did he run off to?"

A small smile crept up Albus' face. "I think I saw him go into the bathroom. He was crying."

"Albus!"

"Sorry Dad," replied Albus, though truthfully, he wasn't very sorry at all. It wasn't often he had the chance to see his older brother cry. Especially when he was covered in ugly spots.

"Well, come on Al'," his father said as he stood up from chair, "I've got to go fix your brother and you have to apologize to him. _Nicely,_ " he added.

"Fine" muttered Albus as he slipped off his chair and followed his father out the door, still thinking about thoughtfully. It wasn't until they started to climb the stairs that Albus spoke again, "But Dad, I still mean what I said about Christmas."

Harry looked at his son in surprise. "But why?" he asked, confusion evident on his face. "I thought you weren't mad at James anymore."

"I'm not. But that doesn't mean I don't want his toys," replied Albus, with his first real smile of the day.

"Albus!" groaned Harry. "Sometimes, I think you children will be the death of me."

Albus looked at his father innocently. "Us?" he smiled broadly as he pointed to a picture of him and his siblings hanging on the wall. "Never."

Harry's loud "Hmmp!" filled the hallway.


	11. December 11

**Friday December 11th**

**Gildred Pond** **, England**

**2:13pm**

 

_Crash._

Percy ran over the minute he saw his youngest daughter fall but it was too late, she had already started crying.

"I can't do this Daddy! I just can't!" Lucy whimpered in a little voice.

Percy picked her up and carried her off to the side. For once she didn't say she was too big or too old to be carried, she simply turned her head and nestled her face into her father's large shoulder as sobs continued to rack her small frame.

"Now Lucy," Percy sat down on the edge of a bench and positioned his daughter on his lap. Reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a handkerchief out and wiped Lucy's face, her childish cheeks and nose bright red from an equal combination of tears and cold. "You said you wanted to do this. You told me and Mummy that this morning _–blow."_ Lucy blew her nose. "You promised you would try."

"I know," Lucy said softly as she looked at him, tears still clinging to her copper eyelashes. "But I didn't 'suspect it to be so hard."

Percy gave his daughter a indulgent smile as he put the handkerchief away. "Of course it's hard. You've never ice skated before. But with a little more practice, you won't fall down so much."

"Really?" asked Lucy as she turned her head and looked out onto the ice, watching as the people skated by them.

"Really."

Lucy turned her head back to her father and looked at him warily. After a moment she nodded and sniffed, wiping her nose across her jacket sleeve. "I guess I can try again," she said quietly as she rubbed her left thigh, the side of her body that had taken the most impact with her last fall.

"That's my girl," said Percy as he grinned down at her, his light grey eyes sparkling with love. He leaned down to kiss Lucy's round cheek, humming a loud ' _Mwah_ ' sound against her skin as he did.

" _Blegh!_ " said Lucy as she scrunched up her nose and wiped her face. "That was cold!"

"Oh, you think that was cold do you?" said Percy laughingly as he leaned over his daughter and tweaked her nose, causing her whole face to light up. "Well, you're going to get even colder just sitting here. So are you ready to get back on the ice Lucy-girl?"

At Lucy's nod, he let her scrambled off his lap and onto the snow, her little feet shaking in her skates as they tried to support her awkward weight. Percy stood up and offered her his hand, gently leading her over the edge of the pond. As he stood there, determined not to start until Lucy was fully ready, he felt a small tug on his hand.

"Da-aad," Percy glanced down at his daughter, not surprised to feel that she was gripping his hand tightly as worried lines creased her brow. "Promise me you won't let go."

Percy nodded as he said the words that parents had been saying for countless generations past and would continue to say in the countless generations to come, "I promise, I won't let go."


	12. December 12

**Saturday December 12**

**The Burrow**

**12:33 pm**

 

"Sorry mate, we're busy right now. Come back later."

With that the door slammed shut, causing Hugo to jump back. Frowning, he stared at the closed door. Hugo had only wanted to ask his cousins a question, nothing more. Pressing his ear to the door he heard nothing, meaning that Fred, James and Louis were up to something. Something big. Something _huge_.

Sulking, Hugo turned around from the bedroom door and made his way back down the staircase. The Burrow was filled with people, for today was his Uncle Charlie's birthday and everyone had come to his grandparent's house to celebrate it. Unfortunately, that also meant no privacy for there were people everywhere. Hugo skirted around one of Aunt Luna's toddler's –he didn't know which one, both the Scamander twins looked completely identical- gleefully running up the stairs and just barely missed stepping on Poncho, Uncle Charlie's giant black Newfoundland, as it laid on the ground right in front of the staircase.

Peeking into the front room, Hugo could see his sister and Albus sitting on the couch, talking, but he knew better than to go in. He already asked the two of for them for help but they said no. They were too busy doing 'big kid' things. Hugo furrowed his brow in remembrance. It was getting closer and closer to Christmas and Hugo was getting more and more desperate. He _had_ to figure out what to get his dad. And soon.

Continuing down the hall Hugo suddenly stopped, smelling the delicious food that was being cooked in the kitchen. He tiptoed around the bend and peered into the kitchen but immediately pulled his head right out. With his mum, aunts, grandmother and cousins all in there helping, it was full of way too many females for his liking. And even though Hugo's stomach grumbled at all the smells, he resisted walking in.

Hugo moved his feet slowly and walked out of the house. On the opposite side of the porch his dad sat at a table with his uncles, the six of them all laughing loudly. Not wanting to interrupt them, Hugo wandered off into the gardens. He came across an old, forgotten swing and sat down, full of thought. He bent his head and stared slowly at his trainers, watching as he drew a line across the dirt with them. He sat there for a few minutes, until a shadow fell over him.

"Why hullo there young Hugo!" Hugo looked up to see his grandfather smiling at him, his pale eyes twinkling brightly behind his glasses. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

Hugo shrugged his shoulders and looked back down at the ground. "I dunno. Just thinking I guess."

Hugo could feel his grandfather sit down on the bench next to the swing. "Well. That must be some pretty big thoughts you're thinking out here."

"Yeah," Hugo replied dryly, "I guess."

Arthur Weasley regarded his youngest grandson fondly. "Would you like to tell me what they are? Or are they a big secret?" he asked quietly.

"No, I can tell you," Hugo glanced up at his grandfather and said, dejectedly, "I don't know what to get my dad for Christmas."

His grandfather nodded. "Oh, I see."

"I've tried and tried but I can't think of what he wants. It has to be something special you see. And I've asked everyone but no one can help me!" ended Hugo on a tearful wail.

"But you didn't ask me."

Hugo's mouth opened in shock as he turned his head to look at his grandfather. "You're right. I didn't." His eyes grew big with the realization as Hugo put out a hand and tugged on his grandfather's jacket anxiously. "Grandpa, can you help me? Pleeassse," he remembered to add.

Arthur laughed and threw his arm around Hugo's shoulders, squeezing them briefly. "Of course I can. In fact," Arthur leaned down towards his grandson and whispered loudly, "I know exactly what we can do."

"Oh! Thank you! Thank you!"

With those words, Hugo jumped off the swing and launched himself at his grandfather, wrapping his arms tightly around Arthur's waist. In his exuberance, Hugo almost knocked his grandfather's glasses off his face but Arthur steadied them with one hand as he patted his grandson on the back with the other. After a moment, Hugo sat back and looked at his grandfather excitedly.

"Can we start on it right now?" asked Hugo in a rush, "We have time before lunch and I have my tool kit here already, the one you gave me for my birthday and I'm a good helper. Mum told me so. And Mum is always right. Oh I know! We can make the present today and then Dad will be so happy because-"

"Whoa!" Arthur put his hands out calmly as his face stretched into a grin, "Slow down there Hugo laddie. Just give me a moment now. Your grandpa isn't as young as he once was."

Hugo laughed. "Grandpa, you're funny," he said as he observed the many lines and wrinkles that dotted his grandfather's weathered face. "You were never young."

At his statement, Hugo watched as his grandfather leaned his head back and let out a bark of laughter. "Is that so?" he asked fondly as he beamed down and ruffled Hugo's short hair. "Now, don't let your grandmother hear you say that son, she'll not take as kindly to it as I do."

Hugo smiled broadly. "I know Grandpa. I know. Now, can we go work on dad's present now?" He asked pleading as he clasped his hands to his chest and widened his eyes profusely. "Puh-leeaassee?"

Arthur pretended to think about it. "Weeeell," he drawled, stopping only when he saw a fearful look fall across his grandson's face. "I suppose we can start," he added quickly, winking at Hugo.

Hugo beamed and jumped down off the bench, all his earlier anger at the family quickly forgotten. "Thanks Grandpa. You're the best grandpa ever!" he exclaimed loudly as Arthur stood up.

"Can I have that in writing?" asked Arthur mischievously as he started to lead Hugo in the direction of his tool shed. "I'd like that."

Hugo laughed loudly as he grabbed his grandfather's hand; pleased beyond words he was finally going to have some help on his dad's Christmas present. For next to his dad (and his uncles of course) his grandpa was the greatest man in the world. And Hugo could think of no one better then his grandpa to help him with his dad's present. No one at all.


	13. December 13

**Sunday December 13**

**Shell Cottage**

**2:31pm**

 

"Bull's eye!"

The snowball struck Louis squarely on the back; he could feel it vibrate through his many layers of clothing. Turning around he gave his cousin an evil glare.

"You better run James." Louis bent down and picked up some snow, rolling it into a hard ball as he spoke. "I'm going to get you back."

"Sure," scoffed James as he started to inch back, just a bit fearful. "I like to see you tr-yy!"

James ducked as the snowball flew squarely over his head. "Darn it," muttered Louis in disappointment, "Just missed you."

"Hahahahaha," James started to laugh at his cousin, his brown eyes dancing mischievously. "You can't get me. You can't get me. You can't-"

A snowball struck James right in the back of his head. "What the heck!" James shouted as he wiped away the snow and turned around to see Freddie laughing at him from twenty feet away, his face half hidden behind an embankment.

"Did I get him Louis?" shouted Fred from his hiding post.

"Yep!" replied Louis as he started to inch his way backwards, to his own hiding place, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. Right on cue James turned back to him and drawled, "Oh, it's on Weasley."

Louis grinned as he ducked down behind his own snowball filled hut. "Well come and get me, _Potter_."

Within seconds, the air was ablaze with snowballs coming from all different directions. All three boys hid behind their embankments, throwing snowballs out as fast as they were coming in. In less then five minutes, Louis was covered in snow. He peeked over his hill to see Fred also covered in snow, only his dark red hair was showing. To his right, James was still behind his makeshift hideout but he was also paused.

"Truce?" shouted Louis.

"Truce." Came two responses back.

Louis rose from his hiding post and walked over to the center of the field, his two cousins joining him. "Not bad mates," he remarked as he observed the damage they caused. "Almost as fun as last years snowstorm."

"My dad says it's supposed to snow really horrid next weekend," remarked Fred as he brushed the excessive layers of snow off his jacket. "So we can have a huge battle then."

"Sounds like a plan," replied James as he tousled his hair, causing snow to fall across his face.

Suddenly, a voice from the house interrupted their musings. "Boys!" came the loud shout. "'Oo is ready for 'ot chocolate?!"

All three boys shared a look before bolting, the snowball fight now long forgotten. "We are!" shouted Louis, Fred and James as they ran anxiously towards the house, knowing that the one thing better then snow was hot chocolate. Especially hot chocolate after a snowball fight.


	14. December 14

**Monday December 14th**

**Hogwarts, a corridor**

**11:33 am**

 

Victoire is crying in the corridor. Usually she doesn't cry, let alone cry in a public place. But it's Monday morning, four days before the end of term and Victoire just caught her boyfrie –no, make that _ex_ boyfriend- snogging Cecilia Wanterbooks behind a coat of armor on the second floor. And it _hurts_.

"Just ignore him Vic," says Lorie Simpson, one of Victoire's best friends as she hands her a handkerchief to wipe her tears. "He's not worth it."

"Yeah," echoes her other bestie, Amy Anderson as she throws a comforting arm around Victoire's shoulders and hugs her briefly. "Finn's a prat. A huge, giant, _cheating_ prat. And you're better off without him," she ends with a nod.

Victoire wipes her eyes and tries to smile at Amy and Lorie but she can't. She knows her friends are telling the truth, she knows that Finn is a prat, and she knows that he's a liar. But that's not stopping the dark hole that's currently residing in her heart from growing and it isn't stopping her tears from falling. Victoire merely raises her head and throws it back against the wall that three girls are sitting against.

She should have known that Finn was lying to her when he said he couldn't walk her to her Charms class because he couldn't be late to Herbology. Even though Herbology class starts fifteen minutes _after_ Charms starts. But of course, it wasn't until Victoire and her friends decided to take the shortcut to Charms that they figured out the real reason Finn couldn't walk her. And that reason answered to the name of one Cecilia Wanterbooks.

The bell rang, signaling the start of lessons and causing both Lorie and Amy to look up in alarm. "It's alright," said Victoire as she attempted to reassure her friends, "You two can go on to Charms, I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

Her friends start to protest but Victoire waves them off with her hand. "Go," she says, weakly but firmly, "I'll be there in a bit."

Lorie and Amy give her a hug and rise up, promising Victoire that if they didn't have to go to class –but Higgley only allows absences for nothing less then death- they would stay. With a final hug and a flurry of robes, Victoire is left alone in the corridor. Dropping her head to her knees, Victoire wraps her arms around her legs and tries not cry any more then she already has.

She succeeds, until a series of footsteps come down the hall and then stop as they draw near her. "Vic?" comes an astonished voice.

Victoire raises her head and peers blearily through her heartbroken gaze. "Teddy?" she asked in surprise as she takes in the tall, brown haired boy standing in front of her.

Teddy drops to his knees in concern as he takes in her tear stained appearance. "Vicky, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly.

It's her childhood nickname that does her in as she begins to cry, this time harder and more watery then before. She can't even talk, she can't think, she simply shakes her head and looks down at the floor, feeling horribly embarrassed to be caught like this, even by Teddy Lupin, her oldest friend.

Suddenly Victoire feels two arms encircle her slender frame and pull her tight. Victoire turns her head and buries it into Teddy's shoulder, not caring that she's getting snot and tears all over his robes. He large, he's warm, _he's Teddy._ And as Teddy soothes her awkwardly, his large hands rubbing comforting circles on her back as he attempts to find out why she's crying, Victoire feels herself start to calm down. For some reason, the same reason that she's been ignoring ever since she turned thirteen, Teddy's awkward attempts at comfort soothes her more then Lorie's and Amy's kind words ever could. And as she burrows her face even further into his shoulder, his familiar scent drifting up to her nose, all thoughts of Finn and any other boys fly out of her head.

Because Teddy is here.


	15. December 15

**Tuesday December 15th**

**Potter house, kitchen**

**10:27 am**

 

It had snowed last night. Big heaping piles of white, fluffy, powdery snow. The minute Lily had woken up and peeked out her window, she knew exactly what she needed to do today.

Unfortunately, her mother didn't agree.

"Lily, stop moving," her mother commanded as she grabbed Lily's bright pink winter coat and held it up to her. "I can't help you when you fidget like this."

"But Mu-um," sighed Lily in protest as she started putting her arms through the sleeves of the coat. "I need to get outside. The snow's going to disappear."

Ginny Potter smiled faintly at her youngest child as she began to button up Lily's jacket. "The snow's not going to disappear. I promise."

"Yes it is," grumbled Lily, watching her mother button her as she started to slide her blue, polka dotted gloves onto her bare hands. "And then I won't be able to make my snowman."

"So you're making a snowman today huh?"

"Yep," nodded Lily as she finished with her gloves and then threw her pink beanie on her head, crookedly of course. Ginny simply sighed and straightened the hat, making sure it completely covered her daughter's ears. "A special snowman," Lily added with a grin.

"Well then," her mother smiled kindly at her as she stood up, indicating that Lily was now all ready to go play in the snow. "Do you need any help," she asked as Lily started eagerly towards the door.

"Nope," threw Lily over her shoulder as she ran out the door. "I can do it all myself."

Twenty minutes later Lily was starting to regret that statement. She had tried to roll the snow into three balls for the body and head, but all she accomplished was just the head. But the head wasn't perfect like she'd seen on other snowman. Instead it was lopsided and leaned to one side. Lily, having never made a snowman by herself before, didn't know how she was going to fix it. And her little arms were tired from pushing and she was _cold._ Angrily Lily kicked at the snow, frustrated with the whole thing.

"Hey Lily."

Lily turned to see her two brothers, each armed in their respective snow gear, walking towards her from the house. James reached her first.

"What are you doing?" he asked as Albus came up slowly behind him.

"Trying to make a snowman."

"That sure doesn't look like any snowman I've ever seen," remarked Albus as he observed the lopsided ball of snow.

"I know that," said Lily with a glare in his direction. "I'm not done yet."

Albus and James exchanged similar glances. After a moment of secret conversation, Lily hated how they could talk sometimes without saying a word; James turned back towards Lily and said, kindly, "You need some help?"

"Uum," Lily glanced down at her faux attempt at a snowman head and then back up at her brothers. Despite her previous wishes, she knew they was no way she could make this snowman alone. "I suppose. If you're offering," she added.

"We are," said James as he turned towards his younger brother and commanded. "You make the middle, I'll make the bottom." Turning back around towards his sister, he caught the look of surprise on her face and said, "Me 'n Al' have done this before."

After ten minutes, Lily had to conclude that her brothers were right. During that short time frame each of her brothers had whipped up a ball a snow and set them on top of each other. Lily finished her designated job –fixing her monstrosity of a snowman head- and added it to the pile and completing the snowman's body.

"Now what should we do Lil'?" asked James as they surveyed their work.

Lily was shocked. Her brothers rarely ever asked her what _she_ wanted to do. As the youngest and only girl, she usually had no say in anything. Her cheeks tinged pinked from a combination of cold and embarrassment, Lily shyly said, "Well, I was thinking of making him look like Daddy."

"Like Dad?" echoed Albus as he and James stared thoughtfully at the unadorned snowman. "You know," he added, "that just might work."

"I was planning on getting his robe from his study," said Lily.

"And he left his hat in the foyer," said Albus, his voice lit with enthusiasm.

"He did, didn't he?" remarked James. "Okay Al', you go get his hat. And Lily, you go get his robe," commanded James in his best older brother voice and, for once in their life, Lily and Albus obeyed him.

Lily dashed back into the house with Albus fast on her heels. By the time she got outside five minutes later (for their mother refused to let her and Albus enter the house until they had brushed all the snow off their pants, jackets, shoes and gloves), James had already added black yarn for hair and was holding a pair of glasses in his hand and was starting at the snowman intently.

"It's missing something," he said as Lily and Albus approached.

"Yeah, a face probably" scoffed Albus as he threw the hat on and Lily added the robe.

James glared at him, "I know that you nit-wit." James turned back to the snowman and said, "But what can we use for the eyes? What do we have that's green?"

"Oh I know!" shouted Lily excitedly. Turning back towards the house she started to run, shouting, "Hey Mum! Do we got any peas?"

Two minutes later Lily was back, equipped with two peas, a carrot for the nose and handful of red gumdrops which her mother insisted they could use for the mouth. James added them all -along with the glasses- and then the three siblings stood back, examining the now Dad-like snowman.

"It's still missing something," remarked Albus with a frown as Lily nodded on in agreement. "It doesn't look quite like Dad yet."

"I got it." said James with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Reaching down, he grabbed a tree branch off the ground and used its sharp end to draw a small, lightening rod shape above the snowman's eyes. "Perfect," he said as he stepped back to examine his work. " _Now_ it looks like Dad."


	16. December 16

**Wednesday December 16th**

**Weasley house, front room**

**1: 37 pm**

 

"Mu-um?"

A little voice sounded in the door causing Audrey Weasley to look up from her book. "Lucy?" she asked in alarm, setting her book on the sofa next to her as she observed her young daughter standing the doorway, a very sad look on her face. "Sweetie what's wrong?"

Her daughter continued to watch her silently and Audrey grew even more alarmed. "Lucy?" she asked again.

Suddenly, Lucy bolted across the room and threw herself into her mother's lap. Audrey leapt back against the sofa in surprise as Lucy burrowed herself snuggly into Audrey's warmth mumbling against her mother's jumper, "Molly is coming home on Friday."

Audrey raised her eyebrows in shock at the mention of her oldest daughter. Raising one of her hands, she drew it through Lucy's tangled brown hair softly and said, "Yes. Molly is coming home on Friday."

Lucy turned her head and two big eyes regarded her mother somberly as she said, "But I don't want her to."

"What?" Instantly Audrey's senses were on alert. Despite her daughter eight year age difference, they shared a close bond. Even with Molly being at Hogwarts for the past two years she still managed to find time to write many letters to her little sister, letters that never failed to bring a smile to Lucy's heart shaped face. So Audrey was perplexed on to what had brought upon this sudden change in Lucy's demeanor. Tipping Lucy's chin up with her hand she questioned her, "Why?"

"Because," here Lucy sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve, "that means that she's just going to go back to school. Again. She always leaves me," finished Lucy with a pout.

"Oh Lucy-girl." Audrey took a deep breath and pulled her daughter closer, tightening her hold on her. "She doesn't mean to."

"I hate Hogwarts," whimpered Lucy against her mother's shoulder. "I miss my Molly."

Audrey felt tears well up in her eyes as well, after two years she still wasn't used to her oldest being gone. Smoothing Lucy's hair, Audrey gave her a kiss and leaned down to pressed her cheek against Lucy's small head as she replied. "I know you do dear. And your sister misses you as well. In fact," Audrey dropped her voice to a whisper, "Molly wrote and told me she got you a special something for Christmas."

"Really?" Lucy's head popped up. "She did?" she asked in surprise.

"Yep," replied Audrey with small grin. "She picked it out especially for you."

"Is it big?"

Audrey had to hold back a chuckle. "I don't know sweetie. You will just have to wait to find out."

Lucy sighed in disappointment. "If I have to," she said as she leaned back into her mother's embrace.

The pair sat like that in silence as Audrey treasured this quiet, and rare, moment with her daughter. She didn't know what she was going to do when Lucy went off to Hogwarts in seven years. As Lucy began to snore and Audrey felt her own eyes grow heavy with sleep, she thought briefly of talking to Percy about having another baby. She was still needed her boy after all.


	17. December 17

**Thursday December 17th**

**Weasley house, living room**

**4:01 pm**

 

"Up here?"

"No, a bit higher."

_Pause._

"Here?"

"Yes. Perfect!"

Rose Weasley beamed as her younger brother climbed down the small ladder, from which he had just used to hang the last of the ornaments on the tree. They usually hanged the ornaments by magic –well, Mum and Dad hanged them by magic and Rose and Hugo just watched. But this year Hugo had really wanted to decorate the tree and Mum and Dad agreed on the condition that Rose help him. Rose didn't mind, she often bossed Hugo around but today was the first time she was actually _allowed_ to do it. And Rose was thrilled about it.

"How 'bout this?" asked Hugo as lifted up an armful of tinsel from the bin. "Where's this supposed to go?"

"Um, just throw it on the tree all pretty and such."

Hugo threw it.

"Hu-go!" yelled Rose with a stomp of her feet. "I said pretty. That's not pretty!"

Hugo groaned but wandered over to the tree and tried to spread around the tinsel, which had settled on the bottom right hand side. "That better?" he asked after a moment of fiddling.

"I guess," replied Rose. "Now, do we need anything else?"

Rose leaned back and observed the tree. The tree was huge, for some reason her Dad loved to get the biggest tree he could find. This was fine except for the fact that Rose and Hugo were too small to reach most of the tree so a lot of the ornaments and decorations had wound up on the bottom half of the tree this year, living the top half bare. But other then that and the huge gaping holes spread throughout the tree, for Hugo insisted that all the ornaments were friends and they all wanted to be hung in the same area, the tree looked great. At least, in Rose and Hugo's humble opinion.

"I think we're done Hugo," observed Rose, "I think we are done."

"All right!" said Hugo happily as he stepped back from the tree and yelled, loudly, "Hey Mum! Dad! Weeee're done!"

Footsteps sounded in the hall as their parents entered the room. Ron Weasley saw the tree first.

"Holy shite," said their dad as his eyes grew big, "the tree looks-"

"Lovely," interrupted their mother as she poked her elbow into their father's stomach. "It looks lovely dears," she added with a smile in Rose and Hugo's direction.

Rose beamed. "Really, you think so? Hugo helped loads. I just gave him directions," she added as Hugo nodded in agreement and tugged at their mother's arm, leading her over to tree to show off what he did. Rose turned to her father. "What do you think Dad?" she asked.

Rose watched as her father stopped gaping at the tree and peered down to look at her. "I, um.." he stammered.

"Hugo wanted to add glittering snow ball cubes," interrupted Rose. "And those light up wands that jingle Christmas songs for ten hours straight. But I told him it would make the tree look ugly. And we don't want an ugly tree do we Dad?"

For a minute Rose thought her father was going to say something else, but he merely continued to watch her and his expression softened. Wrapping his arm around Rose's shoulder's, he squeezed her shoulder's affectionately and said, "Of course not Rosie. And this tree…this tree looks beautifully. By far the best tree we've ever had."

"Really?" preened Rose.

"Really," replied Ron, "It's quite an original."

"Is original good?"

Ron leaned down and gave his daughter a fond smile. "When it's made by you and Hugo love, original is nothing short of spectacular."

At that moment, little Rose Weasley felt ten feet tall.


	18. December 18

**Friday December 18th**

**Platform 9 and three quarters**

**2: 25 pm  
**

 

Louis Weasley liked being the only kid at home. He liked sleeping in late and not having to worry about being woken up by teenage girls running up and down the staircase worrying about what outfit they were going to wear that day. He liked being able to use the bathroom without being afraid that one of his sister's many hair products was going to rise off the sink and eat him alive. He liked the fact that his mother cooked him his favourite dishes and his Dad spent his weekends playing Quidditch with him in the backyard. But most of all he liked the fact that the house was quiet and calm.

Unfortunately, in about five minutes, that was all going to change.

"Oh Beel!" Louis looked up to see his mother clutch his father's arm in excitement. "It will be so good to have ze girls 'ome for Chreestmas!"

Bill Weasley smiled as his patted his wife's arm in amusement. "It will be good," he agreed.

Louis simply rolled his eyes and looked up at the massive clock hanging by the wall. Four minutes to go until freedom was officially over. _Drat._

"Bill. Fleur. Louis."

Andromeda Tonks walked across the platform towards them, a smile on her elegantly lined face. "How are you all?" she asked as she came near.

"Good," replied his father, "and you?"

"Fine. Just waiting for Teddy."

"You must miss 'em so," remarked Louis' mother as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Andromeda's wrinkled check. "I know our 'ouse is just not the same without ze girls 'ome."

Louis groaned and shifted his feet in annoyance. Now they were going to spend another five minutes talking about how much they missed their kids. Sometimes adults were just so predictable. He glanced another look at the clock and saw that two minutes had already passed. Bugger. Didn't they know he wanted time to move slowly not fast? It was days like today that Louis was sure the all elements of the world were against him.

"Louis!"

Yep, he was right. Everything was against him

A small force knocked into his legs and looked up at him, beaming widely as she grabbed his hand in excitement. "Molly's coming home today. She's coming home today and we're going to play and read books and bake biscuits. I have a new doll I want to show her that she's never seen before. Uncle Charlie got it for me from Romania and it has black hair and black eyes and it comes with lots of dresses. And I know that Molly got me a huge present for Christmas but no one will tell me what it is and I want to know because I don't think I can wait until Christmas but Mum says I hafta and-"

"Whoah there. Slow down Lucy-girl," said Louis' Aunt Audrey as her and Uncle Percy walked up to their small group. "You're scaring Louis."

Lucy looked up her cousin. "Am I scaring you?" she asked softly, her small eyes growing huge at the possibility.

Louis scoffed. "No," he replied, annoyed at the fact that his aunt thought he could be scared by a mere four year old. He was ten years old for Merlin sake! "You could never scare me," he added strongly.

"Good," replied Lucy as she continued to swing his hand, chatting loudly the whole time and making Louis feel glad that his cousins James and Fred weren't here today. They would have never let him live this moment down.

Louis snuck another glance at the clock. It read two thirty so that meant…

Yep, right on time the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. Lucy pulled his hand so hard that Louis thought for a moment that his arm was about to come loose out of his socket. "Wait a sec," he whispered to Lucy as people started to surge forward, eager to greet the returning students. "They'll come to us."

Lucy pouted prettily but listened to him and didn't move. Louis could still hear his parents talking with Andromeda and his aunt and uncle about how much they missed their girls. The thought briefly crossed Louis mind how in a year they were going to say that about him. How in a year _he'll_ be one of the students on the train. Louis could hardly wait.

The first of the students started to exit and Louis recognized a familiar red head stepping out of the train, an armful of books in her hands. "Molly!" shouted Lucy as she dropped Louis hand – _finally!_ \- and ran into the crowd, causing both her parents to scurry after her in parental alarm. Louis watched as his cousin looked up at the familiar yell and, seeing her little sister running towards her, dropped her books and immediately opened her arms to embrace the small runaway, seemingly not to care that all her classmates were watching her.

"Look. Look!" Louis attention was diverted by his mother. "There's Victoire and Teddy."

Louis followed his mother's gaze and saw Victoire and Teddy stepping off the train with their things, chattering loudly. Dominique followed behind them in a deep conversation with a tall, lanky brown haired boy that looked to be around the same age as her.

"Who's the boy Dom's talking to?" demanded his father in a loud voice. No one answered him for in that moment Victoire and Teddy saw them and rushed over in a flurry of hugs –well Victoire rushed. Teddy strolled over nonchalantly but even Louis saw him pick up his pace as he drew closer to his grandmother.

"Maman!" exclaimed Victoire as she greeted her mother with a kis. She turned towards her father and gave him a huge hug before bending down to ruffle Louis hair, "Hi squirt. You miss me?"

"No," replied Louis honestly as his sister laughed and drew him in a big hug anyways. Louis squirmed and broke free, blushing furiously at his sister's attention. He looked around Victoire to see Dominique saying goodbye to the boy, her face turning red as he hugged her briefly. As he walked off she turned towards her family, a love struck expression on her face. Walking over towards them she gave her mother a huge hug and kiss as her father demanded to know "Who that boy was."

 _Oh yeah_ , thought Louis to himself as he stood there in the midst of all the talking and carrying on, for Dominique was deliberately ignoring her father's question as she greeted him with a hug, _everyone's definitely home for the holidays. Gre-at._


	19. December 19

**Saturday December 19th**

**The Burrow, shed out back**

**3:22 pm**

 

Molly Weasley balanced the tray of biscuits and milk on her hip as she knocked on the door of her husband's shed. The raised voices and loud noise she had been hearing the whole time she made her way across the yard suddenly stopped at her knock. A few seconds passed before the door opened a few inches and a small face looked out.

"Grandma?" asked Hugo, surprise evident on his little face. "What are you doing here?"

For a second, Molly thought about reminding her grandson that she lived here but decided against it. With his dirt streaked face and black hands, Hugo didn't look to be a humorous sort of mood. Instead Molly raised the tray and simply said, "I thought you and your grandfather could do with some refreshments."

"Ooohhhh," said Hugo eagerly as Molly tried to stifle a smile, for he reminded her of her boys when they were his age, always ready for food. Hugo pushed open the door a scant inch more, being careful not to let her see in as he said, "I can take it."

"Well," Molly examined his grimy hands thoughtfully. "How about I set inside instead?" she asked, curious to see what Arthur and Hugo were being so secretive about.

"No, you can't Grandma. There are no girls allowed in here. No matter how old you are."

"Hugo!"

Hugo's shoulders fell as his grandfather's disapproving voice filled the small shed. Glancing to something behind him, out of Molly's eyesight, Hugo said quietly, "Hold on a minute Gram," as he started to shut the door.

Molly patiently waited as the door closed behind him, knowing instinctively that her husband of many years was probably reprimanding their grandson for his thoughtlessness. For if there was one thing that Arthur Weasley was exceptionally good at, it was reprimanding small children, _especially_ small boys.

A minute later the door opened again, this time with a much somber looking boy behind it. "I'm sorry I was rude to you Grandma," said Hugo softly as he stared intently at his feet. "I meant to say that me and Grandpa are very thankful that you made biscuits for us and carried them out here in the cold weather but because we are both dirty and the shed is messy we were hoping you could bring them back into the kitchen where we could join you as soon as we washed up. Would that be okay?"

Molly shifted the tray to her other hip. "Of course dearie. And Hugo?" she added kindly as he started to walk away, "Take a biscuit anyways, I don't mind."

Hugo's face lit up. "Thanks Grandma," he said as he grabbed a biscuit off the tray and shoved it into his mouth, Molly trying her hardest not to pay attention to his messy little hands. "See Grandpa," he added behind him as he started to close the door, "I told you Grandma wouldn't be mad. I don't know why you said she starts shrieking like a banshee when she gets upset. She seemed perfectly normal to m– _ah!_ "

Despite his attempts to smother their grandson, Arthur knew his wife had heard every word. And as he looked up to meet the steely brown eyed gaze of the woman standing in the doorway, the woman whom he had stood by through thick and thin, through death and births, through war and peace, the woman he had pledged his life too, he knew none of that mattered today. For there was no way he was going to get any of her delicious biscuits now.


	20. December 20

**Sunday December 20th**

**Weasley house, upstairs office**

**9:22 pm**

 

"Ouch!"

" _Sshhhh."_

"Don't tell me to sush. Tell James to stop stepping on my foot."

"James….."

"What? I'm not doing anythi-"

" _Sshhhhhh!"_

Fred Weasley put a finger to his lips, trying to quiet his two cousins. It was currently nine thirty on a Sunday evening and all three boys were supposed to be in bed, or at least in Fred's room _pretending_ to be in bed, not sneaking around his father's office. But Fred Weasley was on a mission to get his Christmas presents and there was no way he was going to go into battle alone.

"Over here," whispered Fred as he inched his way through the thick layer of darkness that covered most of the office. "I know the present are in this," he threw over his shoulder to his cousins as he stood in front of his dad's cabinet. A cabinet that held not only papers, files and testing material for the store, but also Christmas presents. Big, giant, _glorious_ Christmas presents.

"How are we going to open it?" asked James in a loud whisper.

"Um, maybe the handle?" suggested Louis sarcastically in an I-Can't-Believe-He-Asked-Such-A-Dumb-Question kind of voice. James shot Louis a look but reached over Fred and tried the handle to the cabinet. It swung right open. Fred ignored the prickle of uneasiness that came over him, it wasn't supposed to be this easy, and instead poked his head in, reaching for presents.

"Found them!" he said proudly a moment later as his hand touched something soft. Grabbing it, Fred deducted it was a box and he pulled it out, flipping it over on its side as all three boys crowded around it.

"What do you think it is?" asked James as he studied the box thoughtfully.

"Maybe the new edition of Fighter Brooms: Escape from Azkaban," offered Louis.

"Or a new Quidditch kit?" suggested James with a note of hopefulness in his voice.

"Well, we'll never know until we opened it," said Fred as he bent down and started to unwrap the present, his cousins joining him.

Suddenly, three different things happened at once. A nasty smelling spray shooted out of the package, covering all three boys in it. The lights in the office suddenly turned on, for a moment Fred couldn't see at all, and two loud voices shouted loudly, "Gotcha!"

"What?" asked Fred in surprise as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Who….Dad? Roxie?" His expression grew dim as he took in the pleased expression of the two people who had just leapt up from their hiding places behind the desk.

"Hahahaha!" shouted Roxanne in obvious delight. "We gotcha. We gotcha. We gotcha," she sang, spinning around in circles. Fred looked next to him to see James trying unsuccessfully to wipe the nasty smelling liquid off him as Louis looked on, just as perplexed as Fred.

"What's going on?" asked Fred in confusion.

George Weasley smiled widely, looking more like a mischievous child and less like the father of two half grown children. Walking over, he clasped his son on the back as his daughter continued to spin around behind him. "Did you really think you could fool me son?"

"You mean, you knew about this?" asked James as he peered up at his uncle from his place on the floor.

"I told you we forgot to close the door all the way," muttered a disgruntle Louis. Fred was too surprised to say anything, he simply watched his father.

"Of course we knew," said Roxanne as she decided to stop spinning and put in her two cents. "Dad unlocked the cabinet and everything. How else did you think you got in so easily?"

"I don't know," muttered Fred in disappointment, "I tho-"

Whatever Fred was going to say was drowned out by the voice of Angelina Weasley as she appeared in the doorway. His mother took one look at her son and nephews lying on the floor, covered in a nasty liquid that also decorated the office's walls and immediately turned her attention to her husband. "George Weasley," she demanded, "What is going on here? Why are the kids up so late? And what is that _awful_ smell?"

"Um…" Fred watched as his father attempted to calm their mother. "It's not what it looks like dear. See, there was this experiment…"

"An experiment!" demanded their mother in a loud voice as she drew her arms angrily across her chest. "In our house? Didn't you promise me that you would not be doing any _experiments_ around the children? Didn't you?"

"Uh oh," said a small voice behind his shoulder as Roxanne joined her cousins and brother on the floor. "Daddy's in tro-uble."

And for the first time in his life, Fred agreed with his sister. His father was in trouble. _Big trouble._ But as Fred exchanged glances with Louis and James he felt a wide smile spread across his face. For if his father was in trouble then that meant that he wasn't. Leaning back, Fred crossed his arms behind his head and continued to watch his parents. _He was in the clear._


	21. December 21

**Monday December 21st**

**Potter household, Albus' bedroom**

**6:06 am**

 

It's the cough Ginny hears first. Hoarse and deep, it vibrates the whole house. She dashes into the direction of her son's room, knowing before she gets there what she will see, her black haired boy lying in bed with flushed cheeks, red, puffy eyes and a cough so throaty it should be paired up with a grown man and not a slender wisp of a boy.

"I hate allergies," mutters Albus to his mother from his bed, turning his head towards the wall as he coughs once more, his whole body shaking with the vibration. Ginny feels her heart turn, every year she tries to get her son through the holidays uneventfully, yet every year she fails. No matter how many times she bans real Christmas trees, flowers, scented perfumes and candles, Albus always seems to find something to upset his fragile immune system, causing him to be down for a day or two while Ginny tries her hardest to get him back up again. It doesn't matter how insignificant or small it is, she never likes see any of her children sick.

"I know you do sweetheart," soothes Ginny as she makes her way over to his bed, narrowly avoiding all his toys, books and clothes that are strewn all over the floor. Leaning over him she presses a quite kiss to his temple, noting its coolness. "Let me nip downstairs and get you some medicine," she offers as she smooths back his hair, "It'll help."

Albus makes a face, obviously remembering the disgusting taste of the medicine from years past but he makes no fuss, which worries Ginny much more then if he had. With a last worried frown she turns from his bed and makes her way across the room, almost running straight into the small night gowned figure that is anxiously waiting in the hallway.

"Mummy is Albus sick?" asked Lily with a tiny crease in her forehead as she peers into her brother's room, her stuffed hippogriff Dimples in hand.

"Just allergies Lily Billy, nothing too bad," said Ginny as she pauses in her duties to smooth her daughter's worries.

"But is he uncomfortable?" asked Lily again in her small voice as she peers up at her mother.

"A bit," answered Ginny honestly, for despite her tender years Lily was more perceptive then people gave her credit for. "He's just going take some medicine and rest a while," she said, running her fingers through her daughter's bright red hair.

"Can I go see him?"

"Only if you're quiet, really, really quiet," said Ginny, for she knew her daughter wouldn't rest until she made sure her brother was alright. Lily nods and starts to walk into the room as Ginny watches her, a soft smile on her face.

"Al'," said Lily as she made her way to the foot of the bed, "You feelin' bad?"

Ginny watches as her son leans out of bed to look at his sister, coughing as he answers, "A little I reckon."

"Oh."

Even from the doorway Ginny could see the worry on her daughter's face. Lily shuffles forward a little and holds up her stuffed hippogriff so that her brother could see him. "Here Al'," she demands as she handed him over to Albus, "you can take Dimples for the day. He usually makes me feel better and maybe he can help you too."

Albus takes his sister's cherished toy with the tenderness of hands. "Thanks Lil'," he mutters as he pats the hippogriff's head awkwardly and smiles at his sister. "Thanks."

Ginny backs away from the doorway slowly, not wanting to intrude on such a special moment between her children. But as she walks down the stairs in search of medicine, she reflects that maybe the hippogriff is a even better cure then the most expensive of medicines. And as she enters her son's room five minutes later she is not surprised to find Lily curled up in bed with her brother, the hippogriff between them as they both laid fast alseep. She sets the medicine on the nightstand beside them and grabs the blankets from the foot of the bed, taking special care not to wake either of them. And as she does that she whispers a saying, a saying that her mother once used to whisper at her bedside many years ago, _"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my babies you'll be*."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Line taken from 'Love You Forever' a children book by Robert Munsch which is a necessity in any parent's library collection, no matter how old or young their children may be.


	22. December 22

**Tuesday December 22nd**

**Diagon Alley, London**

**5:22 pm**

 

Roxanne Weasley is walking slowly down the street with her father when she sees him, a old man dressed in faded robes and a shabby trench coat that gives him no protection against the harsh elements. Roxanne involuntary shivers from watching him, even though she is bundled up in layers and layers of warm clothing –her mother refused to let her go to her dad's shop until she put them on. The man is leaning against a building and he is holding his hands to his mouth, moving them back and forth, as a strange sound emerges. It takes a moment for Roxanne to realize that the man is playing some kind of musical instrument, for the sounds that flow forth from him are strangely captivating and pleasing to the ear.

It's not until her dad puts a hand on her arm that Roxanne realizes that she had completely stopped in the middle of the path. "Roxie," her dad asked as he bends his head down, his breath warming her cold face, "You okay?"

Roxanne says nothing, just continues to stare at the old man while everyone one else hurries by with their holiday shopping in hand, ignoring his very existence. The old man continues to play, seemingly not to notice the bowed heads and averted eyes as people pass him quickly. His music is hypnotic though and, somehow, Roxanne finds her feet moving by their own accordance and within seconds she is standing in front of the man, not knowing quite what to do.

It's not until the man pauses briefly in his song, no doubt wondering why she's standing there, that Roxanne is hit by inspiration, almost an understanding. She puts her gloved hand inside her coat pocket and moves it around until her hand hits what she is looking for. She removes her hand slowly and bends down, her eyes remaining on the man's face while she drops the rest of her holiday money –a few Sickles and a single Knut- in the well worn out can resting by his feet. A large body suddenly joins her and Roxanne watches as her father deposits more coins into the can, the money making a loud clanking side as it goes in.

The man continues to play, no changes in the song from before but to Roxanne's ears it sounds ten times sweeter. As Roxanne starts to move with her father –despite her many layers, the bitter winter air is starting to come through- the old man moves his hand briefly away from his mouth and Roxanne catches a flash of brilliant blue eyes as his mouth curves up awkwardly, as though it's been a long time since he's had something to smile about.

Her father says nothing to her as trudged slowly down the street, heading back to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo home, but when they reach it, he suddenly exists on buying Roxanne a large mug of hot cocoa –with enough whipped cream to dot a small mountain top- even though it's close to suppertime. And as Roxanne raises the steaming mug to her mouth she realizes she is smiling, though she cannot put into words why.


	23. December 23

**Wednesday December 23rd**

**Weasley house, front room**

**5:46 pm**

 

"Ahahahahaha!"

A small figure streaked down the stairs and ran to Teddy. "Save me! Save me!" demanded Lily as she cowered behind Teddy's legs. Teddy looked up to see his god brother standing at the top of the stairs, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"James," said Teddy sternly. "Are you pickin' on your little sister?"

"No," came the wide eyed, innocent response.

"Liar!" said Lily as she peeked between Teddy's legs and looked at her brother. "You said if I didn't help you find your Christmas presents you were gonna put frogs in my bed. Dirty, ugly _slimy_ frogs."

"No, I didn't," insisted James as he started to come down the stairs, a devilish look in his eyes, "I said bugs. Big, dirty, disgu-"

James didn't even have a chance to finish his whole sentence before Lily shrieked and dashed out of the room, leaving her brother laughing after her.

"James," said Teddy frowning as he started to walk towards the kitchen, "Leave your sister alone. Or _you'll_ be the one with bugs in your bed."

James said nothing in response, only huffed and walked back up the stairs, muttering the whole time about how Teddy 'used' to be fun.

Teddy entered the kitchen, only to be bombarded by a worried looking Hugo. "Stop Teddy!" yelled Hugo from his place on top a kitchen chair, his hands splayed out in front of him, "You're going to kill him!"

For the fifth time that evening, Teddy re-thought his agreement to watch the three Potter kids along with Rose and Hugo. When Harry asked him over the weekend if he wouldn't mind watching the kids for a evening while he and Ron took their wives out for a holiday dinner, Teddy jumped at the chance. Despite his pleas to the contrary, he missed the little tykes while he was at school and it wasn't like he had never babysat them before. But for some reason (Teddy blamed it on a equal combination of sugar and Christmas cheer) the kids were extra hyper this evening. Already Teddy had broken up a pillow fight, stopped a vase from being demolished and convinced James that throwing Rose's book down the toilet just because Rose threw it at his head was not a good idea.

Teddy sighed as he stared at his latest trouble. "Who am I going to kill now?" he asked Hugo as he ran his fingers through his color changing hair.

"My spider," replied Hugo as his eyes searched the floor. "I set 'im over there," Hugo pointed to the corner across the room. "But I went to get him some food and when I came back Choco was gone!"

"A spider? Are you even allowed to have one?" asked Teddy, for Ron's fear of spiders was well known in the family.

"Um..." said Hugo as he bit down on his lower lip, "Well, no one told me I _couldn't_ have a spider. And Choco seemed so nice when I found behind the sofa just now.

"You found the spider here?!" asked Teddy in surprise. "Bollocks, Ginny is going to kill me. If Ron doesn't get to me first that is," he added.

Before Hugo could respond, a sudden shriek and bang sounded from upstairs followed by a loud, drawn out "Jaam-es!"

Drat, thought Teddy as he turned around. "Don't move, I'll be back in a second," he shouts over his shoulder to Hugo, "And for the love of Merlin, no more spiders!"

As Teddy dashed through the front room he passed by the fireplace and was struck by a sudden hit of inspiration. Grabbing a handful of powder, he muttered 'Shell Cottage!" and stuck his head into the flames. Ignoring the fight that was currently going on upstairs -from the sound of things Teddy would have to say that Albus and Rose were currently winning- Teddy poked his head into Bill's and Fleur's parlour room and asked for Victoire.

"Hey Vic," Teddy said with his most dashing smile as Victoire came into the room a few moments later. "Got any plans for tonight?"


	24. December 24

**Thursday December 24th**

**Christmas Eve**

**7:27 pm**

 

"Can we open up a present tonight?" begged Roxanne from her seat by the tree.

"Please Mum," echoed Fred as the two faced their parents.

"I don't know dears," said Angelina Weasley as she leaned back on the sofa and scratched her head, pretending to think. "What do you think George?" she asked, turning to her husband.

"Well, this _is_ the same boy who tried to get his presents early; do you think we should reward him?"

"I didn't get my presents though," replied Fred logically, "so technically, it doesn't count.

George only shook his head and wagged his finger at his son. "I don't know….."

"Please Daddy," asked Roxie as stood up and ventured over towards her father, climbing on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him her best smile. "Please?" she pouted prettily.

George Weasley was a goner. He turned to his wife and give her _his_ best smile. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt for them to open one gift," he said slowly.

Angelina shook her head -her husband was such a softie- but she got up from the sofa and walked over to the tree, pulling out two similar packages and handing them to her children. "Here you go," she said.

"Thanks Mum!" chorused Fred and Roxanne as they eagerly ripped through the packaging, their looks of excitement quickly turning to looks of disappointment as they pulled out their gifts.

"Knickers?" asked Fred dejectedly as he and Roxanne held up identical pairs, black for Freddie and purple for Roxanne.

"Merry Christmas!" said Angelina merrily as her husband began to laugh.

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

"Hugo, you need to go to sleep," commanded Hermione as she tried to put her unwilling son to bed.

"No Mummy," protest Hugo as he attempted to climb out of the bed, "I'm not tired," he insisted even though his eyelids were beginning to droop with sleep.

Hermione simply shook her head and pushed him back down. "Sweetheart, the sooner you go to bed, the sooner Christmas will come."

"Promise?" asked Hugo wearily as he stared at his mother through sleepy eyes.

"I promise," replied Hermione as she bent down and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. "Now try and get some sleep," she said, tucking the blankets around him snuggily.

"I can't sleep. Too excited. I hafta give Dad his present tomorrow and I ha-"

Whatever Hugo was going to say next was lost as he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off to dreamland. Hermione gave her son another kiss, knowing that it wouldn't be long before he refused their nightly rituals, something eight year old Rose had deemed childish a few months before.

"Night Hughie," murmured Hermione as she looked lovingly at her son's impish face. "Sweet dreams."

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

"I can get it," protested Andromeda as she struggled to get out of her chair.

"No, you sit Grandma. I can get it," insisted Teddy as he walked over to the counter and refilled her mug with hot tea. Bringing it over to her he smiled gently as Andromeda murmured her thanks.

"You're so good to me," replied Andromeda after she took the first sip.

"No Grandma," replied Teddy as he took in the kitchen decorated with Christmas ornaments and knick knacks from years past. In one corner sat a Christmas tree his mother had made in nursery school, the once vibrant green paint now worn and dulled with age. Home drawn pictures of snow and smiling snowman were pasted onto the walls, reminders of Teddy's lack of artistic ability, noticeable even at the tender age of four. The coffee mug that Andromeda drank out of was a cherished possession, one his grandfather Ted had given her on their last Christmas together. Teddy breathed in all the Christmas memorabilia and looked at his grandmother, smiling softly. "It's you who is good to me," he told her truthfully as he laid a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

Percy walked up the stairs, all ready to put his youngest daughter to bed. As he got closer to her room however he heard voices and stopped in front of her door, surprised to see his daughter Molly in there with her sister.

"Twas the night before Christmas" said Molly from her place on the bed, reading from the book that laid open on her lap. Lucy was curled up next to her sister, following along in the book with her fingertip, "And all through the house..."

Percy stepped back and leaned against the door frame, drinking in the sight of his two daughters reading together quietly, their two heads bent intently over the book. Not wanting to interrupt them, he stood there patiently; a slight smile on his face as he watched them.

A hand slipped into his as Percy felt someone join him. "It's good to have her home," said Audrey as she leaned lovingly against Percy's side, her face beaming as she watched the tender scene in front of them.

"I agreed," said Percy as he squeezed his wife's fingertips softly. "It doesn't feel like Christmas without all my girls home."

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

"Give it back!" demanded Dominique.

"No," Louis as he squirmed away from his sister, holding the letter above his head. "I want to see what you're being so secretive about. _Dear Dominique"_ read Louis as he sister gave an angry yell and tried in vain to snatch the letter away from him.

"Maman! Dad!" yelled Dominique angrily. "Louis is reading my letter!"

She attempted to grab it from him but Louis switch it rapidly to the other hand and continued to read, _I hope you're having a wonderful Christmas._ Blah Blah Blah" improvised Louis as he looked up at his sister. "You really like this guy, this-" Louis looked at the bottom of the letter, "Jacob?" he finished.

"Aggh!" screamed Dominique in frustration, "Stop reading it you little prat!" she yelled as she grabbed her brother's arm and tried to wrestle the letter away from him.

"Ahem," said a quiet voice from the doorway.

Both kids stopped and looked up to see their father standing there, his hands crossed loosely over his chest. "If you two are done fighting, I believe your mother just pulled out a tray of fresh baked sweet biscuits from the oven," explained Bill.

"Yum," said Louis as his sister released him, running eagerly to the door.

"Wait," said Bill as he stopped his son with a hand. " Are you forgetting something?" he asked as he motioned his head towards the letter still in Louis's fist.

"Oh," said Louis as he handed the letter reluctantly over to his sister, Dominique snatching it up eagerly. "Sorry," he muttered, unconvincing.

"No more reading your sister's letter's" scolded Bill as Louis started to run down the stairs. "Victoire's too!" He added as an afterthought.

"So Dom," said Bill as he turned towards her, noticing the letter she stuffed rapidly into her pocket, "How are things?"

"Um fine Dad," said Dominique nervously as she tried to exit her room. "What's that Maman?" she shouted loudly as she cupped a hand to her ear. "You need me in the kitchen? Sorry Dad, got to go help Mamma," Dominique said as she squeezed eagerly by him.

Bill frowned. He hadn't heard his wife.

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

"One. Two. Three!" yelled Lily, Albus and James together loudly.

With a flick of Harry's wand, the Christmas tree lights turned on, causing a chorus of cheers to erupt from his children. "Now it feels like Christmas," said James as he drank his mug of hot chocolate, his siblings silently agreeing with him.

"Here you go Harry," said Ginny as she handed him his mug. She turned away but Harry stopped her with a touch of his hand and brought her face down to his for a quick kiss.

"Merry Christmas Gin," he said quietly as she drew away from him with a pleased expression on her face, their children groaning in disgust around them.

"Ew, Daddy," said Lily as she looked up at him, a small line of chocolate above her upper lip. "No kissing today," she demanded.

"No kissing today?" asked Harry playfully as he set his mug on the table. Capturing his daughter around the waist, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her squarely on the cheek. "Oops, too late," he said as Ginny plopped down next to him, smiling. "I guess that means you need another kiss."

Lily laughed loudly, her small face lightening up with delight as her father proceeded to cover her face in loud kisses.

 

-:- -:- -:- -:-

 

"The apple pies are cooling off, the mince pies are still in the oven, I need to finish knitting Lucy's jumper," said Molly to herself as she ticked off items on her fingertips. Walking out of the kitchen, she picked up her yarn basket, her head whirling with endless thoughts. For tomorrow was Christmas day which meant all her children and their families where coming over to the Burrow for Christmas dinner, which meant Molly was going to be busy all day.

(Molly didn't mind being busy. Truthfully, she thought the house too empty which just Arthur and her rattling around in it.)

Suddenly the back door opened and her husband entered, large flecks of snow in his hair. "Molly!" said a smiling Arthur. Pulling his hands out from behind his back, he presented his wife with a gift, a small armful of greenery. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh Arthur," said Molly lovingly as she took the greenery from him, the yarn laying forgotten in her lap. "It's beautiful."

"I know it's not much love," said Arthur bashfully as redness crept up his cheeks, reminding Molly of the young boy she fell in love with all those years ago, "But its all I could find at this time of the year."

"No Arthur," said Molly as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into his familiar embrace. "It's perfect."


	25. December 25

**Friday December 25th**

**The Burrow**

**3:01 pm**

**Christmas Day**

 

"Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry! Mo-ve!"

Harry leapt back just before a two miniaturize Quidditch players flew past him locked in a fierce battle for the Snitch, right where his head had been less then a moment ago.

"Thanks for the warning boys," said Harry gratefully as he looked up to see his eldest son and two of his nephews (Fred and Louis) standing on the landing above him, their hands on controllers as they directed their Quidditch players around the room, Uncle Charlie's Christmas present to the trio. Thankfully Charlie hadn't given them miniaturized dragons like _last_ year thought Harry as he continued on his way into the other room, stepping around Lily, Lucy and Roxanne as they played on the floor with their new dolls.

Entering the room he spotted Ron and Hugo sitting together in the corner, both sporting identical freckled faced grins as they stared at the picture frame in Ron's hand. For Hugo had given Ron a wonderful Christmas present, a drawing he drew of him and his dad, magically enchanted to move around like people in normal pictures. The picture was encased in a wooden picture frame built by Arthur's own two hands and Harry couldn't tell who was prouder of the present, Ron, Hugo or Arthur. Chuckling over the two, Harry started to head over to them but was stopped suddenly by his mother-in-law shout.

"Everyone wash up. Supper is ready," shouted Molly as she held her wand to her throat, magnifying her voice so the whole house could hear it. Within seconds the Burrow was filled with noises, as children scrambled to wash their hands and parents stepped over the multiple toys and gifts as they brought the delicious smelling food out to the table. Harry stood off to the side slightly, watching all the action.

"Beautiful isn't it?" said Arthur as he joined Harry and handed him a butter beer, with the air of a man well used to noise and chaos. Harry smiled softly as he took the drink from him, his eyes drifting over to rest on his three children sitting in the middle of the long table, talking loudly with their cousins about everything they got that morning, and their cousins trying to top that by telling them what _they_ got for Christmas. Recalling his bleak Christmas days before Hogwarts and Ron -actually Hogwarts and the Weasley's, Harry gave a silent prayer of thanks that his children never had to experience that. For all they knew was love around the holidays and lots of it.

Harry looked over to Arthur and realized he had never answered his question. Taking a swig of butter beer Harry nodded his head before replying, "Yes, it is."

"Merry Christmas son," said Arthur as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder briefly.

"Merry Christmas," said Harry as the two men stood there watching their family, both smiling broadly with love and affection shining in their eyes.


End file.
